As I write this I’m sitting in a plastic wicker couch with my lovely bride. We are on the deck of a big boat looking at the Atlantic Ocean. We are being rocked by the frothy November tide. We are on our 5th or 6th cruise. It is simply the absolute best way to vacate in the history of vacations. We get to live out wild Caribbean dreams.
Before I ever even took a cruise I considered myself an expert. After all, I grew up watching the Love Boat. I expected to hang with Gopher and have dinner with Captain Stubing and swap stories with Isaac the bartender. I was looking forward to meeting Charo. But real life washed away my fun ship expectations like a sandcastle.
From the first time I got on board and heard “theez eez your captain speeeking…” my life was never the same.
Each ship has a cruise director who serves as a purveyor of pure enthusiasm. They fling fun around like glitter. We have had some really cool cruise directors who apparently survive on very little sleep.
It took me a while to get used to the boat toilets. When you flush them it sounds like a combination between a car wreck and a dying steroid crazed ox.
It didn’t take me anytime at all to get used to the fact that I can get soft serve ice cream every 14 minutes. In fact I think that is a maritime law, ice cream and pizza must be consumed frequently. I happily comply.
Speaking of food, there is this wonderful invention called the chocolate melting cake. It is an unbelievably delicious little chunk of dark chocolate decadence. It is instantly addictive, I am going to need a support group next week to help me get through withdrawal.
There is a virtual cornucopia of entertainment. You can enjoy comedy clubs and casinos, bingo and karaoke (FYI, my go to karaoke song is “Play that Funky Music White Boy”), I’ve attended art shows and thriller dance classes. And then you’ve got the big glitzy shows. We’ve seen the exact same shows on every cruise that we’ve been on, and so I know all the words and dance steps, but I wouldn’t fit into any of the glittery costumes. The shows feature happy attractive, young artists singing and dancing to Motown songs on a big shiny set. It’s fun and I get to sing along.
I have to confess, I fear the elegant night when you are legally required to dress up for dinner, once again maritime laws kick in. This is only because of my general lack of elegance. I have a casual body and I’m allergic to elegant. But I conform because I like to eat.
It’s serious fun to get back to your room and discover a towel animal on your bed. It’s almost magical how ordinary beach towels can become super cute critters like puppies, dolphins or pterodactyls. This inspired me to make towel animals at home, but I only mastered the towel snake…not super impressive.
We have taken some cool excursions, snorkeling (where I bobbed around like an extremely uncoordinated sea lion), tours of beautiful Bahamian locations, and we spent a day at a private island named Half Moon Cay. (Half Moon is also the name of a semi-reputable plumbing company in our home town).
You have constant access to fancy drinks with paper umbrellas and rhyming names…Bahama Mama, Mai Tai. Makes me wonder…Did Dr Seuss name these drinks? “Would you drink this fruity punch on the deck? Cause we will most gladly put it on your check!”
We have taken the time to get to know some of our restaurant servers and cabin stewards. These are INCREDIBLY hard working individuals who have some amazing stories. They sacrifice and serve and still they smile. They have families back home who they haven’t seen in a while and they labor to provide a life for their loved ones.
We ALSO have met some REALLY cool humans on cruise ships (and one seagull that was a real jerk). We have gotten to know some really good people who just like to have a good time and who, through the social magic of social media, have become good friends long after the ship docked.
We have encountered a few haters, the complainers. They gripe because the bed is too hard or soft, or the pizza is too hot or cold, or it’s raining or the sun is in their eyes. It always puzzles me that there can be unhappy people on a cruise ship. It reminds me of Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka. Nothing is good enough and they always want more. What a shame there aren’t Oompah Loompahs on board to separate the good eggs from the bad…sorry, I digress.
Then, sadly the last day rolls around and it’s time for debarkation, which sounds like something you do to a dog that you don’t like. We pack up the dirty clothes, souvenirs and memories and we have to get our feet back on dry land.
But, not before one last soft serve ice cream,
And I’m putting a paper umbrella in it.
carbonated joy 